


Life's a Beach

by thewakeless



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, Ice Cream, M/M, Sad, hurt comfort, mental health, no sex for once.... that was an uncharacteristic choice, relationship, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewakeless/pseuds/thewakeless
Summary: A year in the life of Dan and Phil, and their mental health.





	Life's a Beach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovestillaround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovestillaround/gifts).



i. Winter

It was snowing, the soft, slow snow of a first kiss in a teary anime.  The sky was bright grey and London beneath it a city of stone and metal, with little strips of fallen white flakes between the cracks on the pavement.   Dan was sitting at the window wrapped in a blanket, deep brown eyes gazing outside.  On the coffee table next to him there was a cold cup of tea, and a candle still burning, its soft vanilla scent permeating through the room.  His phone had died, and the only sounds audible where the cheesy Christmas carol that Phil was playing in the kitchen. 

It was the third day, and third days were always hard.  By the third day 72 hours of poor sleep and even poorer nutrition had seemed to wither him, till he had the appearance of someone recovering from a nasty flu.  There were circles under his eyes, and he definitely smelled as he had failed to shower 3 days running.  He had changed his clothes though, that was something, although he didn’t do it for himself.  From the Kitchen Phil’s off key singing wafted through again, and a familiar pang of guilt passed through him. 

Three days. Three days were he felt nothing at all.  Just this void, where a person called Daniel Howell (or perhaps Danisnotonfire he wasn’t sure) usually resided.  Three days of having deep apathy for all the things he usually enjoyed, including his boyfriend.  His fingers brushed absentmindedly against the soft texture of the blanket and he closed his eyes.  It was days like these when he envisioned an easier and more solitary life. One without his boyfriend, and without his audience, where his feelings were just his own, and could not affect anybody else’s.  After all, when he had three bad days, so did Phil. 

Bad days meant no work, no video games, no sex, no cuddling, but most importantly they meant no laugher.  And it was this that most hurt both of them.  For Dan the silence was almost unbearable.  It weighed down on him like a boulder, and it tantalized him with the thought that all this would be more bearable if he was alone.  If only he could break away.  Find an isolated little place, with good internet connection, and food delivery where he could just live without having to worry about other people, or worse having them worry about him. 

His eyes trailed over the tea cup that Phil had put out for him so many hours before.  It just didn’t seem fair to subject the person he loved most too so many bad days.  Because over the course of their long years together there had probably been hundreds of them, and still out of some loyalty or affection that Dan would never quite understand Phil had stayed.  He did his laundry, he brought him tea, he cooked for him, walked him to the therapists when he couldn’t bear to go alone.  All of this, and how had Dan repaid him?  By never quite getting better.  Because no matter what he did or what medication he was on, there were always bad days. 

There was a shuffling from the Kitchen, and a moment later Phil’s long slim figure appeared on the doorway.  He was holding a tray of chocolate treats, and two cups.  Dan tried to smile at him but he suspected that his efforts were unsuccessful because Phil looked quite sad.  He put them down on the table besides Dan, taking his old cup away.   

When he came back he pulled a seat by Dan’s window and began sipping at his cup of coffee.  Dan inhaled its deep smell over the vanilla; it always reminded him of Phil in the most wonderful way.  There were chocolate balls on the tray, each sprinkled with tiny sugary snowflakes and he watched as Phil’s long fingers popped one into his mouth.  “It’s quite good,” he said, understandably surprised.

To please him Dan put one into his own mouth.  It was rich intense chocolate with a little crunch from the sprinkles.  He’d barely eaten a thing all day, and his tongue could tell that it was good, but he didn’t crave it.  It didn’t satisfy like food usually did, and it certainly didn’t bring him any pleasure.  “Thanks,” he said quietly, thinking that if he could no longer be fun or loving to his favorite person, then he might as well be polite. 

Phil smiled at him, that kind pure smile that Dan had fallen in love with long before he had ever been its cause.  “Thank you,” he said for a second time, even quieter, and after that the silence was just a little bit easier.

 

ii. Spring

It was morning, and his bed was empty.  Phil sighed and rolled over until he had his face smashed against Dan’s pillow.   It still smelled like his ridiculously expensive shampoo and he breathed it in for a few minutes before sitting up.  The alarm clock that he never actually used said it was 11 o’clock.  His bedroom was bathed in light and sound, making him wonder how he hadn’t gotten up earlier.  There was the customary drilling coming from downstairs and someone on the street was playing obnoxiously loud music.   He ran a hand through his morning quiff, flattening it as best he could as he staggered out of bed. 

He pushed on his glasses and then went instinctively to Dan’s door.  He knocked once, and waited, his hand hovering over the doorknob.  “Yeah?” the voice sounded oddly far away.  Phil licked his lips, so it was one of those days. 

“Do you want anything?” he said keeping the concern away from his voice because he knew it bothered his boyfriend. 

Silence followed.  Phil waited for a minute but when nothing else was said he slowly crept back to the kitchen.  He looked around for sings that Dan had had an early breakfast, but everything was just like they had left it last night.  Pizza boxes on top of the fridge, and a counter sticky with Phil’s failed attempt at a cocktail.  He almost smiled as he cleaned up the residue with a wet towel.  Yesterday had been a very good day; in fact there had been a lot of good days lately.  Days when he woke up with Dan between his legs, and went to sleep with his head against his shoulder.  Days when it seemed impossible that things could ever be less than good. 

He made himself a solitary breakfast, two eggs, toast, bacon, and a cup of very sugary coffee.  They had been watching a very good anime this week but there was no point watching it without Dan. Instead he propped up his laptop and making sure the volume wasn’t too high he watched PJ’s latest video, and once that finished Cat’s.  Then he washed his dishes.  It was 12 o’clock now.  They had planned to film a Sims video today, but of course things could always be moved around and he was happy to do it, if it made Dan’s life any easier. 

Taking a seat in the sofa crease in the living room Phil sorted through his email, and then began editing a video that they had filmed a few days before.  At 1:30 he went to visit Dan again.   He knocked but there was no answer at all.  “I’m going to bring you some food, okay?”  He thought he heard a grunt from the other side. 

In the beginning of their relationship, bad days had devastated him.  He had never had them himself, and watching someone that he loved go through that made him feel entirely helpless.  And he was.  In those early days he had bent over backward trying to help, but of course it had just made everything worse.  He had sat with him, and cried, and hugged him and tried to talk, but with each action Dan had just seemed to fade further from him.

Now he knew better, he understood more.  Dan needed his space, he needed his silence, and the quickest way to get him back was to let him have both.  He brought up a tray with toast, and fresh fruit and yogurt, knocking once on the door before budding in.  The room was dark, and Dan was a lump on the bed turned away from him.  He left the tray on the nightstand, and then gingerly reached over and touched Dan’s shoulder.  “I’m downstairs if you need anything,” he said, not expecting a reply. 

It was a lonely day. Outside the sky was blue, and there were birds chirps, spring was coming on fast and pretty.  _When he’s better maybe we can go to the Park_ , thought Phil as he played Zelda.  At four he made pasta, and brought up a bowl for Dan.  Both of the waters had been drunk, but the food didn’t look like it had been touched.  He replaced the plates and came back a minute later with two glasses of fresh water.  He still couldn’t see Dan’s face; he was almost completely buried by sheets. 

After eating he called his mom, like he might on any other day, and when she asked about Dan he said that he was at the store.  He didn’t say this because he was ashamed of his boyfriend, or his health, he did it because he knew that’s what Dan would prefer.  Later, he popped on a scary movie, a too big bowl of popcorn resting in the space where Dan would usually sit.  It was quite bad, and almost over when he heard a noise coming from the stairs.  He looked up to see Dan slinking into the room, his blanket draped around him like a cape. 

Phil swiftly moved the popcorn away as Dan took his customary seat, curled up next to him, his head on Phil’s lap.  “What are you watching?” he said clearly trying to keep his voice normal. 

“Something really dumb,” said Phil, reaching out and softly running his fingers through Dan’s curls. 

“Dumb is good,” he replied. 

After the movie finished they watched another, Phil’s fingers gently going through each curl and wave.  It brought him such comfort just to have him close, just to know that if he needed anything, Phil would be there to help him.  After the second movie finished he leaned down kissing the top of Dan’s head.  “Are you ready for bed?”

“No.”

“Wanna watch something else?”

“Okay.”

Knowing that Dan wasn’t in the mood for choosing, he selected another scary movie.  But it was hard to pay attention.  Dan was always a distraction for him.  His soft skin, his quiet breathing, the smell of his hair.  It all brought him peace.  This was what home meant, this was what love meant, and even on days like this when they had hardly exchanged a word, he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. 

When the third movie finished he repeated his question.  “Are you ready for bed?”

“I guess,” said Dan quietly getting up off the sofa.  They walked down the hallway together and Phil held his breath, preparing himself for a night alone, but when he reached their doors Dan went into Phil’s.  He dropped the blanket, stripped his shirt and sweatpants off and crawled into bed.  Phil followed suit, until they were both lying on their backs staring up at the ceiling.  “The last one was better,” said Dan quietly. 

“It was wasn’t it?”

“Mmhm.” He moved half a centimeter closer to him, and underneath the sheets their skin came in contact, Dan’s warm arm just grazing his torso.

“If you can’t fall asleep wake me up,” he said as he always did although Dan rarely ever took the initiative. 

“Have a good night,” said Dan quietly. 

Under the covers Phil’s hand wrapped itself briefly around Dan’s wrist and gave it a squeezed.  He hoped to communicate by this all the things that words had never allowed him to say.  Dan gave a little sigh.  “I guess tomorrows another day right?” despite his words his tone was defeated.   Phil turned towards him and gently kissed his shoulder. 

“Yeah, another day together, that’s always good.”

Dan snorted.  “You have Stockholm syndrome.”

Involuntarily Phil laughed.  “Probably, or else you’re just that pretty.”

“Oh shut up,” he said sounding a just a little like his usual self.   

iii. summer

There was pistachio ice cream dripping between his fingers and they were seated together on a black bench, a picture perfect park scene stretched out behind them.   Phil had taken pictures to be uploaded to their stories as soon as they made it home.  They were cute too; cute enough not to need filters.  Although Dan figured that was mostly because of the aesthetic stack of ice cream that they were both licking at.  Phil had gotten raspberry and chocolate, and he had gone with his old favorite, because well, sometimes you needed something that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. 

Despite the fact that appearances were a prime part of his job, life, and fame, Dan didn’t usually think too hard about what he wore.  He dressed simply.  Neutral colors, comfy sweaters, nice sneakers.  Today perhaps had been an exception.  He was wearing what might be called either a ridiculous romper, or a very fashionable romper and his curls were extra fluffy and he was wearing the most expensive sunglasses he had ever bought. 

No matter what he had told Phil, none of this was for the insta pic.  It was to make the task of getting out of the house just a little less daunting.  Sometimes it was hard to face people, even when they were nothing but kind and supportive, even when they didn’t know he was a quasi-celebrity.  Sometimes it was a challenge to order ice cream, or small talk with his Uber driver, and lately this had seemed especially so.  He had hardly left the house all month, and never without Phil. 

It was just nicer being inside, cozier, and he didn’t have to be on his guard.  In the outside world it was quite different. There were muggers, and cars, and mean bicyclists ready to cuss out anyone who got in their way.    And of course there were gushing fans, asking for pictures, or else watching them from across the street with a cellphone in hand.  He never felt quite safe, not at all; especially when any small natural movement between him and Phil could shatter the careful privacy they had spent so many years building. 

“Is yours good?” asked Phil who had been watching him. 

Dan gave a nod and continued licking not meeting his eyes.  It had been Phil that had insisted in a real world outing today.  They had been filming a lot of gaming videos that week, and he said his eyes needed a rest from the screen.  He looked quite beautiful with the sunlight filtered by a canopy of green illuminating his face.  As far as Dan was concerned the outing was nice as could be expected, the day was pretty, the ice cream was good, they had gotten nice pictures out of it and nobody had come up to them, but there was still that feeling within him.

The sense, perhaps paranoid, perhaps silly, that there were hundreds of eyes watching them.  He bit into his cone, chewing without much pleasure as he looked down at his pale knees.  “Are you alright?” Phil’s voice was soft and Dan was sure that if they were at home his hand would be on his shoulder, pulling him just a little towards his own body. 

“Maybe we should head home,” he said quietly not looking up. 

“Alright,” said Phil as he rose.  They followed the park trail through pretty fields, and then the child’s play area, both of them finishing their cones on the way.  “Hey do you think pigeons would use seesaws if they knew how?”

Dan, who had been trying to avoid meeting eyes with a group of teenagers lying on a blanket on the grass, snorted and whipped his head around to look at Phil.  “What?”

“Seesaws,” he said pointing to one not too far from them which two little boys were using.  Dan laughed, this in no way clarified his question but it was exactly the unconventional charm that he prized so much in his boyfriend. 

“Why would pigeons wanna use seesaws?”

“I don’t know, maybe because it could help them settle fueds about who’s heavier.”

“They feud about that do they?”

“Who’s to say?” he said with a shrug.  “It could be like a pigeon gang on one side, and another pigeon gang on the other.  Whoever’s heavier controls the territory.”

Dan bumped his shoulder into him, a grin on his face, and the thought of the teenagers replaced by the singular wonder of Phil still being able to surprise him with his oddities.  “That sounds like a terribly indie game.”

“We could do that, Dan and Phil do pigeons.”

“Don’t call it that!”

“Dan and Phil seesaw with Pigeons?”

“Vetoed.  How about Amazing Phil thinks about Pigeons too much, a solo project.’

Phil laughed.  “Maybe, we could release it during pigeon fest 2019, I’m sure I’d do better then.”

“Wow, capitalistic Lester really is more than a meme.”

Phil’s long white fingers tapped gently at the rim of Dan’s oh-so-expensive sunglasses. “You love it Howell.” And evidently he did, because he had a very _visceral_ reaction. But of course Phil didn’t need to know that yet, Dan liked to make him work for it. 

He turned his head haughtily, as if unimpressed. “I’ll like it a lot more when we have a house.”

“You little shit,” said Phil with an easiness that he could never emulate when swearing on screen. 

Dan beamed at him.  “Nothing but truth here babe,” the last word dropped to a whisper.  Phil poked him playfully on his side.  They were almost home.  Good. Home with Phil was the best place and safest place that he had ever known.

 

iv. Fall

Autumn had already come to London when they returned exhausted and exhilarated to their familiar apartment.  It was pumpkin spice season, the air was crisp, the sky cloudy and months of activity wound down into quiet evenings spent watching movies and having sex.  It was lovely not keeping to a schedule, being able to do whatever they wanted, and having all the comforts of home.  However, finishing the tour had its downsides. 

Phil had known this was coming, he could see the signs in the last days of the tour, when suddenly they didn’t have to talk about the next place or the one after.  Sometimes he would catch sight of Dan staring out of the window, his mouth set, his eyes far away.  And sure enough almost as soon as they were home the silences returned.

When they were on tour worry, anxiety, and sheer business kept Dan’s depression at bay.  He didn’t have time to overthink.  There were other problems of course, like lack of sleep, and physical exhaustion, but they had simpler remedies.  Tour gave Dan a sense of purpose and now that it was over that feeling was ending as well.  This time it started with sleep, or specifically with too much of it, with days when he would rise after noon and go to bed uncharacteristically at midnight.  During the day he was mostly himself, a little less loud, a little less funny, but just a touch.  Maybe if Phil didn’t know him so well he wouldn’t even have noticed, no one else seemed to. 

Then it progressed to less activity in general.  No more yoga.  No more 3 meals a day.  Most of the time he either wanted to watch something, or else he wanted to be left alone.  Although Phil didn’t know exactly what he did when he went into the spare bedroom with the amazingphil covers, he would have bet that it had something to do with YouTube.  It had after all been months since his last upload.  This had been his least active years by far.  Of course this didn’t matter to Phil, or many in their audience, but he knew just how much it was eating away at him. 

With every day that passed the video yet to be made seemed scarier, more imposing.  It had to be something important, something good, to warrant the months of waiting and anticipation.  That’s how Dan thought, and of course when it came time to planning and recording it, this made the task almost impossible.  Phil didn’t bring it up with him.  He respected Dan’s silence and skidded around the issue as he began brainstorming for his own video. 

“What’s it going to be about?” said Dan as he saw him making bullet points one evening. 

 “Hotel food service mostly, some animal stories,” said Phil. 

“That sounds cute,” said Dan, like the supportive boyfriend he had always been.

Phil smiled up at him.  “I can do this later if you wanna do something?”

“No, that’s okay,” said Dan a slight frown on his face, and then he had walked out of the room.  Half an hour later Phil heard the main door open and close.  He sighed.  He hated when Dan left without saying anything, it made him feel heavy, it made him feel wrong.  Of course he knew that that was selfish and irrational, but try as he might he hadn’t been able to rationalize that feeling away. 

He made himself dinner and scrolled through twitter, sending replies to several of their fans, and trying not to keep track of how long Dan had been away.  An hour passed, and then another.  He made himself tea, and stretched out to watch some TV. He didn’t even care what was on, his heart was pounding.  Three people messaged him that night but none of them were Dan, and he didn’t want to send a message of his own.  He needed to respect his space, if he had wanted him, he would have called. 

Just after nine o’clock in the evening he heard the door again and sat up.  Heavy footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, and then Dan’s silhouette was framed in the doorway.  “Hey,” he said simply. 

“Hey,” answered Phil, immediate relief washing over him.  “Was your night okay?”

Dan gave a shrug.

He turned off the TV.  “Wanna talk?”

For a moment Dan seemed torn between actions, but then he took a seat next to him.  Despite the excessive sleep he had been getting he looked extremely tired.  “I just don’t know if I can do it,” he said quietly, and for a flash Phil could see the scared 19 year old who had quit University.  He reached out and grabbed his hand, still cold from the outside world. 

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Ten years of saying that and I never have,” said Dan even quieter. 

Phil intertwined their fingers.  “That doesn’t mean that we’ll ever stop trying.”

Dan’s eyes flickered to his.  “Fuck YouTube,” he said sounding as if he meant it. 

“You don’t wanna do it anymore Dan, then we don’t do it, we just finish out this year and move on.”  His words didn’t seem to have an effect, his boyfriend was very still.  He looked so serious like this, so unlike the giddy giggly git he usually was. 

“But I like it,” said Dan.  “That’s the fucked up bit, I like it, and I’ve been successful, but I just can’t do it,” it was as if the words broke a spell, because from the calm came a sob and then Dan was in his arms, crying violently into his shoulder.

“It’s just bad day Dan,” he whispered, fear creeping back into his chest.

“No, Phil it’s been months, it’s been almost 7 months, I-“ whatever he said next was made unintelligible by a sob.   

“You took a break that’s fine, people understand.”

All at once Dan pulled away, his face was red and his lower lip was trembling.  “But what if it’s not a break? What if I just can’t make any more videos?”

“We’ve gone through this before,” he reminded him gently. 

Dan rubbed his eyes.  “It’s never been seven months before.”

“Let’s do a collab then, something dumb, just to-“

“No,” said Dan firmly.  “That’s not what I want.”

They were quiet again, and Dan cleaned his face on the sleeve of his shirt.  “I should just go to bed.” He was in the process of getting up when Phil grabbed at his wrist.  He looked up at him pleadingly.  The night couldn’t end here.  Dan slumped back onto the sofa, his head hung.  He stared at the ceiling and Phil stared at him. 

“Maybe I can just help you write the next one,” he suggested softly. 

Dan gave a derisive laugh.  “Senpai to the rescue like always, it’s like I never fucking grew up.”

“I’m not your senpai,” said Phil defensively.  “I’m your partner,” he reached over and took his hand.  “And I’m not rescuing you, I’m helping you out, just like you’ve helped me out.

“I thought I was past this.”

Phil squeezed his hand.  “It’s just a bump, a setback, we’ve been here before.”

Dan gave a singular nod, and then seemed to collapse into his seat.  “I don’t even have any ideas.”

“How about room service and animals?” said Phil, which as expected caused Dan to smile. “Or something more elevated perhaps, for the dani-snot-on-fire reputation.” He mimed getting out an invisible notepad and put on his poshest British accent.  “Perhaps we could discuss gender in American politics, or international laws regarding same-sex marriage.”

Dan answered with a roll of his eyes. 

Phil smiled.  “You had a lot of ideas on tour, they were good.  There was the one about how hard it is to keep up family when you live on your own, there was the one about how you felt knowing you were people’s mentor, there was the one about that terrible party you went to in Uni where that girl almost vomited on you.”

That memory brought back a little smile to Dan’s lip. 

“Maybe tomorrow we could just brainstorm on those, maybe something motivational will come up.”

“That party was pretty memorable,” said Dan.  “And I could tie it into some of the political stuff happening now…”

“You could definitely,” said Phil, who had grabbed his laptop from the coffee table.  “So where was this party again,” he asked.

And then Dan did what he did best, he told a story.

 Of course the video wasn’t done in one night.  It took days for Dan to be satisfied with the script, and although he shot it all in one day, he was so displeased with it that he decided to shoot it again a week later.  In the end it took almost a month for it to finish, a month where Dan had bitten his nails half off, and he kept waking up with a start in the middle of the night.  When it was finally up loaded, Phil popped open a bottle of champagne. 

“I’m incredibly proud of you,” he said as Dan took a dainty sip. 

Dan sighed.  “Thanks but now I’m back to square one, no idea what I’m gonna do next.’

“You’ll figure it out, and senpai’s always here to help,” he said leaning over and kissing his cheek.  He felt arms around him and sunk into the feeling of being intertwined, so familiar, so warm and good.  

**Author's Note:**

> Mental health is a conversation, one that's often hard, but meaningful. And Dan and Phil present a good platform to explore that. Both because we know they struggle with these issues, and also because they are so kind and supportive of others.
> 
> Gurk, I have no idea what you'll think of this, but I hope it reminds you that just like Dan your mental health does not make you bad, or weak, it does not define you. We all are what we are despite these struggles holding us back. And you are incredible, witty, talented, fun, and so so strong. Really I admire you so much, and I hope today is one of the good days.


End file.
